Baby, It's Cold Outside
by Katherine Houghton Beckett
Summary: Sara invites Neal to spend their first Christmas together in a hotel away from all interruptions. Just some festive NS fluff.


Author's Note – Hey guys, sorry that I haven't been around for a little while. My life's taken me away from my writing a little bit; I recently had a baby, a little girl, called Emily. And getting used to motherhood, and not getting a whole lot of sleep, has not made my muse too happy. However I'm back and this one-shot is a little Christmas gift (albeit later than planned) for all Neal and Sara fans out there and I will be continuing and updating all my stories.

* * *

Summary – Sara invites Neal to spend their first Christmas together in a hotel away from all interruptions. Just some festive NS fluff, includes a sex scene but nothing graphic.

**Baby, it's Cold Outside**

It's Christmas Eve, and Neal Caffrey strides in from the blustery winter weather and into Four Seasons hotel. He steps in through the gleaming lobby to be greeted by warmth and it tingles welcomingly against his cold cheeks. He plucks the snow-glazed fedora from his head and smiles at the doorman. He briefly gazes up at the back-lit onyx ceiling, before weaving through the smattering of the hotel's guests and personnel.

It's a little boy playing with a toy train that catches in the corner of his eye. He glances briefly at the child lost in a world of make-believe, his sister gazing up at the hotel's large tree in wonderment, and Neal smiles softly to himself. Through young eyes Christmas is a time of magic and for a moment Neal feels it too.

Neal heads toward the pretty blonde concierge perched behind the desk. "Good evening," he says and shoots her his most dazzling smile.

"Good evening, Sir." The young woman leans forward an inch, her elbows propped on the polished desk, and she smiles back at him flirtatiously. "How might I help you?"

"I'm here to check in," he explains to her, setting his bags down by his feet. "Sara Ellis booked us a suite."

With a bob of her head, and a momentary glimmer of disappointment, the concierge clicks on the keyboard. She checks the system on her computer.

Neal hasn't seen Sara much this past two weeks. With his team occupied with investigating a judge accused of taking bribes from city officials, his evenings were spent with Diana and Jones cooped up in the surveillance van with idle chatter and take-out cartons.

Their hunt and all the hard work had finally paid in full however; they'd wrapped the case yesterday. A much-relieved Peter took off Christmas Eve to spend some well-deserved time with Elizabeth.

And so with the city blanketed with snow and a laid back day in the office, Neal had entered the large open-plan area this morning, armed with festive lattes for the Harvard crew. Sitting atop of the conference room table, laughing and talking amicably about their holiday plans neither he, Jones or Diana had any intention of doing work.

When Sara had called inviting him to Christmas in a hotel he had agreed without hesitation. Her own hunt for a stolen Degas had led to a fat commission check. Spending their first Christmas together tucked away in luxury and ordering room service seemed like a blissful idea, one that's too good to pass up.

"Oh yes, Mr. Caffrey? Ms. Ellis left a key for you." The woman pushes a key card across the desk.

"Thank you." Neal plucks the key from the shiny surface.

"Would you like someone to help you with your bags?" she offers politely.

"No that's okay," Neal replies and hoists his bag up from the floor. "I got it."

"Enjoy your stay."

"Merry Christmas," Neal says jovially, tipping her generously.

He saunters off toward the elevators. He rides the elevator up to the fifty-first floor to their suite.

Once safely inside their room, Neal drops his bag down beside the plush couch, slipping off his coat. He sets both the coat and fedora on the hat stand beside the door and takes a look around the suite. The large, lavish room is serene, the floor-to-ceiling bay windows reveal a night-time beauty of shimmering lights and twirling snow from the world outside. The armchairs with brightly colored cushions cluster around satinwood tables. He spies the marble fireplace, imagining him and Sara wearing fluffy robs and snuggling together watching old movies.

With a smile gracing mouth, he moves to the bedroom, nudging the door open gently. He finds her red cashmere sweater draped on the king-size bed. He spots the bottle of champagne perched in the ice bucket with two glasses beside it, but there's not sign of Sara.

"Sara?" he calls out in the quiet, dimly lit space. He heads to his final destination, the bathroom, and knocks softly on the door.

"I'll be out in a minute," comes her chirpy response. Neal guesses she's just finished taking a shower. "Help yourself to a glass of champagne."

"Are you sure you don't need someone to scrub your back?" he asks, a mischievous grin lacing its way onto his lips. His hand inches to the door handle and he pushes it open with a soft click.

"And pour me a glass," she says wittingly.

Neal smirks, pulling back, his reluctant fingers uncurling from the door handles. He moves toward the bottle. He lifts it up, glancing at the label and he realizes she's spared no expense. He pops the cork easily, pouring a glass for both her and himself. He takes a sip and smiles in appreciation, what better way to start their well-deserved break.

He walks back through the suite toward the glass doors leading out to the terrace. With the glass of champagne cradled in his fingers he moves on to the furnished terrace. The tiny flakes of snow blot lightly against his suit jacket while the winter breeze twirls in his hair. He sips from his drink before leaning over the stone balcony; it's Christmas in the Big Apple and the city is bustling with activity under a veil of twinkling lights and anticipation.

Up high and staring down a world of glittering promise and possibility he really is looking forward to Christmas this year. Admittedly Neal's found it hard to get into the festive spirit throughout his years. Being tucked away in Witness Protection, Christmas hadn't been a big event in his household. They'd had a tree and he'd received gifts but he never had the kind of Christmas the other kids had in the seemingly idyllic neighborhood. He has a few good memories, he'll admit that, but he was never a child who loved Christmas like all the rest seemed too.

Slowly his life has changed for the better; he is serving four years on anklet and under the FBI's watchful glance, but it sure bets being cooped up in a jail cell. He's got a great group of friends; a dysfunctional family if you will. It's the Burkes, his dear friend Mozzie, and the Harvard Crew that make him feel a part of something after so long. And now he has Sara.

"Neal?"

He hears her voice and guesses she's done in the en-suite bathroom. He moves from the balcony and back into the warmth of the room. As soon as he sees her, his eyes darken and his mouth goes a little dry. Sara is dressed up in Mrs. Claus lingerie and she grins at him. Her green eyes hold a slight hint of shyness as she worries whether he'll like the cheesy get-up. She needn't have worried; the combination of not seeing her for over a week, and the simple fact that Sara looks amazing in anything, let alone the sexy outfit, makes him want to take her there and then.

"Hello you," Neal croons and sets his glass down on a nearby table.

"So Caffrey, have you been naughty or nice this year?" Sara purrs, letting her hand rest on her hip provocatively.

"Well, you know me," Neal slurs, shooting her a smile armed with charm.

"Hmm," Sara slinks towards him. "I surely do."

She knows him better than most. She's seen him at his peak and at his worst. He's honestly attempting to lead a better life but he is who he is and he'll always have the heart of a marauder. The important thing is he's trying and Sara knows it. "So, you approve?"

"Mmm, very very tempting," he answers devilishly. He's not able to think of anything other than the stunning woman making her way slowly to him. His eyes wander over the little red dress with its white fur trim. The velvety material hugs her curves; the dress is short, clingy and provocative. Her long legs are covered by candy-cane stockings. "Come here, Mrs. Kringle."

Sara smirks, her last steps all the more deliberate and exaggerated. She's teasing him, making him wait and want, but Neal doesn't do either well when it comes to her. He stalks towards her, reaching out and catching her effortlessly by the waist. He pulls her to him, his hands in her hair and he kisses her. She moans into his kiss.

"Missed you, Caffrey," she whispers softly against his lips.

"I've missed you too."

She smiles at his answer and kisses him again before pulling back just a fraction. Her fingers curl around the silk of his tie as she gazes up into his eyes. "So you like?"

"Most definitely." He buries his hands in tousled strawberry blonde curls, careful not to dislodge the Santa's hat balanced strategically on her head. His fingers cup her face, his fingers cradling her jaw line, tilting her chin so he can look into her eyes.

"I love you, you know that." She's gone to all this trouble to give them a fun and memorable first Christmas together and he wants her to know that he appreciates all of her efforts.

Sara's eyes glisten a little with tears when she hears those words. Her reaction catches him off guard. Of course saying 'I love you' had been hard for both of them to begin with; both had lost loved ones in their lives and the memories of grief had left them understandably guarded and tentative. He'd never thought it was possible to love again and she, well she didn't want to allow herself to love again. But they'd moved past that, slowly and gradually, and now they were happy and content.

"You okay?" Neal asks gently.

"Yes, of course. I'm fine." She nods, recovering quickly she gives him a dazzling smile. "Just happy to be here with you."

"Me too," and he really means it. "This was a good idea."

"I'm glad you approve," she replies and that touch of wickedness returns to her eyes.

"I most certainly do." He lets his mouth graze and nuzzle at Sara's neck. He finds that sensitive spot beneath her ear, kissing her skin lightly. His barely there touches have the desired effort and he feels her weaken in his arms. "I want you out of these clothes," he tells her in a deep, husking breath.

"I want you," she murmurs in response. Sara's tiny, yet expert, fingers peel his shirt before she's pressing hot kisses to the naked flesh she's uncovered. Her small hands push against his chest, propelling them toward the bed and Neal doesn't object. She's unbuttoning his shirt with nimble fingers as he backs up; his calves soon find themselves against the softness of the mattress. Sara shoves with gentle assertiveness and he obligingly lies down, taking her with him.

Once they're lying on the silken bedspread, Neal regains control. His fingers curl gently at her wrists; he rolls her onto her back, the Santa hat slipping to the covers. His palms knead stocking-clad thighs, moving higher and higher in their quest. Sara's breath catches in her throat and a boyish grin tracing its way across his lips.

"Well, well, looks like I'm not the only naughty one here," he slurs after finding that she isn't wearing underwear. He looks into her green eyes and she only bites her lip in a seductive reply.

* * *

It's a while later and Sara stirs herself awake from a light sleep. She lies in a cocoon of silk and Neal arms. She's warm and content. She closes her eyes to listen to gentle his breathing while he strokes his fingers lightly over her shoulder.

"You awake?" she asks softly knowing full well that he is.

"Hmm…," he murmurs and presses a kiss on to the top of her head. "You hungry?"

"Maybe a little." She can always eat which is one of the things that Neal seems to love to tease her about, given her size and her ability to polish off whatever is on her plate.

"Want to order room service?" he suggests.

"Sure, why not." Sara pecks a kiss to his lips before she climbs up and out of the bed. She wanders over to the closet plucking out her satin robe. She slips it over her shoulders, she senses Neal's eyes are still wandering over her body. She revels in the feeling of being wanted and desired. Feeling loved, that is something she hasn't felt or reciprocated in a long time. And sometimes that very emotion leaves her anxious; being happy, feeling like her life is moving forward in a positive direction and she's a part of something once again, well, it sounds foolish but it gives her so much more to lose.

"You okay?" Neal asks, bringing her attention back to the room and she turns to face him.

"Yeah," she utters in a more serious note. She pads over toward him, apprehension is dancing within her stomach.

"Neal, I have to tell you." She sits on the bed beside him tucking her legs beneath her. "I had an ulterior motive in inviting you here."

"You mean besides getting away from Mozzie's untimely interruptions?" Neal says only half-jokingly.

"Besides that."

Neal frowns at her response, "really? What?"

"I, um, I need to tell you something."

The tentative tone in Sara's voice strikes a note of worry within him and makes him a little uncertain. "Okay," Neal sits up straight in his seat, a little afraid of what may come out of her mouth next.

"I'm pregnant."

She blurts her revelation out into the room and then watches his face closely. His forehead creases in thought and she stares at him, waiting and gauging for a reaction.

She's played this scenario over and over in her head ever since she'd gotten the news of her pregnancy. She hopes and imagines that he'll be overjoyed, at that he'll put all her doubts and insecurities to rest. But her mind keeps entertaining the frightening notion that he won't want _them_ and he'll want to disappear again.

"Say something please," she breaks the silence between all too quickly.

"You're pregnant?" Neal repeats and Sara only nods her head. She can feel her fears ready to spring to life, and she really just wants him to be okay with this.

"How long have you known?" Neal asks.

"A few days…. I know it's a surprise, a shock…," Sara stammers. "We hadn't planned…." If it weren't for all the pent up anxiety within her, she would curse herself for the way she's just broken the news to him. She had rehearsed her speech in front of the bathroom mirror mere hours before, she'd practiced what she had wanted to say, and now she's babbling. She stops herself from speaking aloud and sucks in a shallow breath.

Neal keeps quiet and Sara's mind spirals further. There are so many reasons why them having a baby isn't a good idea. They're two very different people; they both have careers full of risk, they haven't talked about marriage or family, their relationship is still young. And they are finally at a reasonably uncomplicated stage in their relationship and she'd really like it to stay that way.

"Hey, it's okay," Neal reaches for her. He can see the worry and doubt behind those pretty green eyes. "Come here, talk to me."

He gathers her close and she buries her face in his chest. He judges from her reaction that she's still afraid he might leave her. And truthfully he doesn't blame her. It's who he was, and what his life used to be; a con man living from one minute to the next, never getting attached. And that nature is still a part of him, he knows that and accepts it, but at the same time he's trying to be more.

He's trying to be the man Sara wants him to be, he's trying to be the man he wants to be. He knows her well enough to understand her innate fears of being left and abandoned. He'd left her once, and after they had gotten back together again he'd promised never to disappear again.

"How far along are you?" he asks her gently after a few moments have passed.

"Six weeks."

"And you're both okay?" It occurs to him that that is all that really matters to him right now. He can get used to the idea of Sara carrying their child and he can prepare for fatherhood; he has at least nine months for that, as long as the ones he loves are safe and healthy.

"We're both fine," she assures him.

She feels better as she sees the twinkle back in Neal's eyes. She allows herself to picture a beautiful baby boy, with those shining blue eyes. A tiny little Caffrey and she knows her heart will melt the moment she meets him. Neal actually seems to be okay with this, even if he is tentative which given the circumstance she can more than relate to, and she's relieved.

"Good, that's good." He smiles back at her adoringly and his grin merely grows and grows, "A baby?"

"Yeah…." Her voice breaks and trails into the dim light and she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Love, babies and a life together isn't exactly what she had pictured for herself and Neal Caffrey. Indeed, it didn't seem possible for two people who were from different walks of life, and so dissimilar in view and value, and yet here they were.

Neal responds by pulling her close and kissing her. He's beaming, overjoyed and happy by the news. And she guesses that's them; Neal Caffrey excited by the promise of a new baby and her worried about all the responsibility and practicality that goes along with having a child. But that them; it's what makes their relationship and she wouldn't have it any other way. Neal will make a wonderful father to their unborn child; there isn't a shadow of a doubt in her mind about that fact.

"Now, how about we order some food," Neal suggests then.

"Yeah, sounds good."

Neal picks up the phone, ordering a small feast for them while Sara sits beside him. She looks out of the bedroom's full-length window, the snow still falling against the cold glass while she's warm and content inside.

"I love you, Caffrey," Sara tells him once he's set the phone back in its cradle.

"Love you too, Repo." He reaches out to pull her back into his arms. She smirks at the nickname and settles back into his arms. She'd planned the perfect holiday with him and it looks like she may get her wish.

~fin

* * *

Thank you for your time.


End file.
